"Jensen, Jane - Gabriel Knight 02 - The Beast Within" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jensen Jane)

And still the cries went on. The screams became
deeper and gruffer; the words were taken over by
snarls. . . .
Hall Mary, full of grace, have mercy on us poor
sinners now and in our hour of need . . .
And then stopped abruptly.
For what seemed like an eternity, there was only
the sound of Aug's own terrified heartbeat.
Then there was a snuffling sound, very close by, a
low, huffing grunt, like a pig in the dirt but darker,
larger.
And something began to scratch at the door.
Chapter 1
Spring, 1995
Schloss Ritter, Rittersberg, Germany
TJNTITLED Blake Backlash adventure
by Gabriel Knight
chapter 1, page 1
More than a year since his last tag case, Blake Backlash
found himself stuck in a dilapidated castle. He's supposed
to be some kind of hero, having inherited late Uncle Dae-
mon's role of "Guardian of Truth and Light" along with this
wreck of a family fortress. What Uncle D. didn't explain
was what the hell that meant. The most exciting develop-
ments of the past year involved building plaster and a lot
of hammering. It was enough to drive a scion to seek out
the highest ramparts and throw himself over. Still, he rea-
soned, things could be worse. If it wasn't for all the money
he'd stolen from the voodoo hounfour before it went up into
flames, he'd still be reading by candlelight and freezing his
balls off in this Bavarian refrigerator.
Fortunately, Blake was about to be rescued from the or-
deal of self-reflection. Brunhilde brings in the mail one
chilly spring morning and he finds a mysterious package—
postmark: India. Curious, he rips open the thick brown
wrapper and out falls
"Out falls . . ." Gabriel Knight muttered, staring at
the page in the typewriter with knotted brow. His fin-
gers thrummed on the desk.
There followed a long and ultimately unproductive
pause.
"Damn ill"
He struck his hand on the table in frustration and
ripped the page from the typewriter's grasp. The
opening wasn't bad—it was what came next that
sucked. He'd had a brief glimmer about a haunted
ashram last night, but in the glare of the waiting page,
Blake Backlash in a sari revealed itself as worse than
unbelievable; it was self-parody. He wadded up the
sheet of paper and sent it sailing to the floor, where